


Pure Laughter

by Misty_Reeyus



Category: Flip Flappers (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Romance, Tickle Fights, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9261251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misty_Reeyus/pseuds/Misty_Reeyus
Summary: “You want to play?” Cocona hisses, and pointedly digs her fingers into Papika’s sides. “Fine then. Let’s play.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> so flip flappers was best anime of 2016 and also potentially my life

_Sniff sniff sniff_.

Cocona sighs as her concentration is once again broken by Papika’s nose nuzzling her ear, and she looks up from her math worksheet to face the girl who’s been clinging to her all afternoon. Papika doesn’t even flinch back as her head turns, resulting in their noses practically touching as Cocona meets sparkling blue eyes with a stern glare.

“Seriously, Papika, stop that. I’m trying to focus.”

“But you smell so nice today!” Papika beams, and promptly begins rubbing her face in Cocona’s hair as if to prove it. She’s been in a cuddly mood all day, and while earlier, Cocona was more than happy to oblige her girlfriend, right now, she really just wants to catch up on her studies.

“Yes, so you’ve told me,” Cocona says, gently pushing Papika away. “And you can smell me all you want after I’ve finished my problem set, okay?”

Papika pouts slightly but nods, crawling backwards until she’s a good meter away. Cocona, satisfied, makes use of the new space to stretch her arms above her head and then return to her work. But before Cocona can so much as even grab her pencil again, she’s unceremoniously tackled from behind, strong arms curling around her waist as Papika’s telltale giggles resound in her ears.

Oh, forget the worksheet. Cocona wasn’t actually getting anywhere anyway.

“You…!” Cocona whirls within the embrace to firmly grab Papika around the midriff, and as Papika’s laughter rings out, Cocona briefly recalls their very first mission together, and the way Bu-chan was able to force them both into Pure Illusion.

“You want to play?” Cocona hisses, and pointedly digs her fingers into Papika’s sides. “Fine then. Let’s play.”

“Waugh!” Papika squeals, squirming in her grasp. “Hey, that tickles!”

“That’s the point,” Cocona hisses, a wicked smile spreading across her lips as she dances her fingers over Papika’s ribs, plays them like piano keys. Papika screech-laughs and tries to push Cocona’s hands away, but Cocona takes the opportunity to shove her fingers up Papika’s armpits, wriggling them ruthlessly against the bare skin exposed by the holes in her jumpsuit.

“ _Nooooooooo_!” Papika whines. “Cocona, _whyyyyyy_?!”

“Because you’re being a pest. I told you not to bother me while I work!”

Papika moans between giggles and quickly tries to fall back, retreating rather ineffectually on her hands and knees. Cocona doggedly follows, and after a bit of maneuvering, manages to back Papika up against the corner of her bedroom, trapping her. Papika sinks against the wall while halfheartedly batting at the attacking hands, and Cocona relishes the way her victim flushes prettily to her neck and shakes with uncontrollable laughter.

Oh, Papika’s beautiful when she laughs.

So beautiful, in fact, that Cocona gets distracted by it. Her onslaught of tickling fingers starts to slow just a smidge—and that’s enough to give Papika the chance to suddenly _twist_ free and lunge forward, hands squeezing at Cocona’s sides. 

“EEEK!”

Cocona immediately abandons her offensive tactics in favor of defense, falling back and curling in on herself as she trembles with the force of withheld giggles. Papika, undeterred, shoves her hands up Cocona’s shirt to scribble fingertips over the skin of her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Cocona gasps, instantly contrite, and pleadingly meets Papika’s gaze. “I’m sorry!”

Not good enough apparently, because Papika smirks in a way that tells Cocona she’s in for it now.

“Take _this_!” Papika cries, her right arm locking around Cocona’s left knee, her left hand shooting up to scratch at the inside of Cocona’s thigh. The moment Papika’s fingers brush over the scar, a frantic shriek bursts from Cocona’s mouth—that spot is so much worse than she could have ever imagined, at least ten times as sensitive as anywhere else.

“No, not there! Not there, _please_!” Cocona attempts to close her legs together so as to trap Papika’s hand, but she can’t tell if that’s making it better or worse. She can’t even tell if she _wants_ it to be better or worse.

Tickling should be horrible. When Cocona imagines Hell, she imagines being tickled for hours on end. But now, as Cocona finds herself rendered helpless under playful attack, she finds she doesn’t actually hate it when it’s Papika. She doesn’t hate it if _Papika_ is the one making her stomach strain from mirth and her face throb from smiling and her throat go hoarse from laughter.

“Heh heh heh,” Papika gives an exaggerated laugh and doubles her efforts, her right hand shifting to tease the back of her knee. “Revenge!”

“ _S-stop_!” Cocona screams in ticklish anguish, tears forming in her eyes as she twists her hips and thrashes wildly. But Papika is relentless, and Cocona’s strength is rapidly escaping her—so in a last ditch attempt, Cocona shouts out desperately, “I’ll pee!”

For just a moment, Papika’s grip around her knee loosens, and Cocona can see the “Really?” start to form on her lips but doesn’t give her the time to voice it. With a sharp kick, Cocona instantly yanks her leg back, and a dislodged Papika rolls onto the floor with a yelp. Cocona doesn’t give her opponent the chance to collect herself before she launches forward and pins Papika down.

“Gotcha!” Cocona declares, tickling any patch of skin on Papika she can reach. It doesn’t matter anyway which patches of skin, because Papika is sensitive _everywhere_ , and once the ball is rolling, it doesn’t take long for Cocona to regain the upper hand. No matter where Cocona brushes her fingers—neck, sides, stomach, hips—Papika _loses_ it.

“No _fairrrrr_!” Papika whines, but she’s not even trying to fight Cocona off anymore. Her hands flail uselessly at her sides; her body language is more open and welcoming than it is defensive. Her laughter echoes throughout the room in bell-like tones, and she almost seems to _melt_ against the floor like cotton candy, like a pile of sugar and fluff that Cocona wants to put into her mouth.

So Cocona does exactly that, bending down until her lips are close enough to pepper fluttery kisses all over Papika’s cheeks and neck. That must tickle, too, because Papika’s laughter gets more frantic and her voice heightens in pitch. She’s so gorgeous like this, all soft and sensitive, and even as Cocona’s fingers slow from targeted strikes to harmless caresses, Papika is still bubbling with laughter, sweet as soda pop.

Cocona gazes into Papika’s eyes, her question unspoken. When an eager grin is the response, that’s all the permission Cocona needs, so she swoops down and locks their lips together. The kiss tastes like victory and Papika laughs into it, her lips loose and airy, her stomach trembling as she curls her arms around Cocona’s neck and tugs her closer.

Even when Cocona pulls away, Papika’s still shaking with giggles. After another full minute of this, Cocona huffs in amusement and murmurs, “Come on already. I won’t tickle you anymore, so stop laughing.”

“B-but I…”  Papika belts out another series of guffaws, “I’m too _happy_ to stop!”

Cocona chuckles fondly, reaching down to brush Papika’s unruly bangs aside. There’s a beautiful blush to her cheeks and she’s still panting from exertion, and it takes Papika another minute before she catches enough breath to speak again.

“…I love you, Cocona,” Papika murmurs, voice tender and eyes bright. “I love, love, _love_ you.”

Cocona simply smiles, and nuzzles their noses together in turn. “I love you too, Papika.” 

Their hearts beat as one, their emotions are perfectly in sync—and as the ever familiar black cloud of Pure Illusion begins to envelop them, Cocona and Papika can only laugh and hold on for the ride.


End file.
